Contrary to Popular Belief
by effulgentcolors
Summary: Emma and Killian are... well, he is not really sure what they are. "Courting" seems to have gone out of fashion as a term. Post-3A, except they defeated Pan's curse and stayed in Storybrooke. A belated Valentine's Day CS.


Contrary to popular belief, Captain Hook rarely lurks and he certainly doesn't eavesdrop if he can help it.

Which he really can't when coming out of the lavatory at Granny's. Swan and the wolf girl are the only ones left in the whole dinner, their conversation echoing slightly in the empty place, while Emma waits for him so they can leave.

Ah, yes, that. Killian has almost started to feel the bounce in his own step the last month or so. Ever since Emma resolutely decided that no reconciliation, past the one necessary to share the parenting of the young lad, would be occurring between her and Baelfire. Well, perhaps since a week or so after that actually, when she also decided that he was finally "out of the dog house" for sharing in the nefarious practice of "making decisions for her".

"Just don't mention it to Hook, ok?"

It's involuntary really, the way his ears perk up when he hears her voice shaping his name.

"I think he is bound to notice all the pink and the hearts and the whatnot. Granny is putting out a 2 for 1 Valentine's special."

Emma groans and Killian wonders why on earth a Granny's special would warrant such a reaction and why—

"Just… try to distract him from the whole "a day to celebrate the people you love" thing, ok?"

"I have one bulletproof way of distracting a man, Emma Swan, but I'm not sure you will want me to—"

He steps forward – quickly, heavily, loudly. If Emma is so desperate to keep him in the dark about what sounds like a romantic holiday, he has no wish to hear how willing she is to hand him over to another woman.

Her head whips around and she smiles – it looks genuine enough to fool him so he focuses hard on the little smudge of guilt, the slight tightness in the corner of her mouth and the tension in her shoulders.

It was always too good to be true.

"Ready to go?"

By the time he leaves her in front of her parents' dwelling, any traces of Emma's guilt and stiffness are gone, but so is the bounce in his step.

/

Contrary to popular belief, Captain Hook is an educated man and there are few things that he hates more than being ignorant about his surroundings.

Thus, it is not hard to imagine that living in Storybrooke has been… testing to say the least. But for the most part he has figured things out on his own and when truly stumped, Emma has always been willing to direct him, even if she takes a couple of jabs at his cluelessness while doing so.

This is obviously not a situation in which she is eager to enlighten him and he does not feel inclined to try questioning anyone, only to discover they have been instructed as Ruby. So he waits for this Valentine the way one waits for an enemy to strike – with growing agitation, restless limbs and a heavy heart.

It is not so much that Emma wouldn't wish to spend such a day with him – he could understand that. It has been mere weeks since they started sharing morning and evening beverages at Granny's counter, taking the long way by the docks on the way to her parents' home and occasionally swiveling into a little alley or stumbling onto the Jolly for a "heavy make out session" as Emma explained their more amorous activities should be dubbed. If you ask Killian, it's courting through and through. Rather brazen and speedy courting, as a matter of fact.

But speedy or not, he never expected winning Emma Swan's heart to be anything but the work of a lifetime and he is more than willing to put in the time. So it is not her unwillingness to display her affections that grates on him. It is her unwillingness, perhaps even fear, at having him display his own on a day apparently meant exactly for such displays.

Alas, he cannot see another move but waiting for the day to arrive and pass. Well, that is not entirely true. He has considered a whole array of other moves but all of them hold the very real possibility of putting him back "in the dog house".

So Killian waits. And then a couple of days later he walks down main street and the hearts Ruby mentioned seem to have finally appeared. The harbinger of romance. And apparently Emma Swan's reluctance to engage in it. He keeps his face carefully impassive and his comments deliberately short and offhanded as he makes conversation with Granny and then with Emma for a few minutes before she has to head to the station. If he notices their slightly confused looks, he chooses to ignore them. If denial is what Emma wants instead of romance, denial she shall have. She has some arrangement in the evening and he deliberately doesn't pry even if his mind is all too quick to conjure up the numerous things that she might be occupying this evening dedicated to romance with. None of them involve him, apparently.

Killian thinks he handles it rather well. Half a bottle, taking the Jolly out for a couple of hours and being safely back in the Storybrooke harbor long before sunrise, ready to face the reality of whether Emma will come into Granny's in a few hours to share breakfast with him or someone else.

Of course, he'd assumed that will be it. So when the hearts and roses and banners featuring the word "love" seem to have only multiplied on his walk back into the heart of town, he is reminded once again that there is much he has to learn about the Land Without Magic.

But Emma does come in to have breakfast with him and he is much too tired and ruffled to hold on to his irritation when she jokes that he looks like he needs the whole pot of coffee today and then puts her hand on his arm and drops her teasing, asking if he is okay.

In that moment he decides to let it go. Well, he decides to at least not hold it against her the way he senses he has been the last few days. Still on the third day of red and pink everywhere, he starts to get irritated for a whole different reason. How stupid does she think he is to not notice all this? It's absurd for him to not make any comment on it all so when he joins her for her afternoon patrol that day he casually drops in the town's new colour scheme.

"Oh, umm, yeah, it's… it's this silly thing they do here."

"They", not "we". He will usually indulge his curiosity and ask her further questions about the traditions of her land but—

"I have to pick up Henry in a bit."

"I can walk you and then retire to the Jolly."

He knows better than to wait with her for the lad. Henry is still understandably disappointed that his parents are not getting back together and he appreciates that Emma made it abundantly clear that wouldn't have been the case with or without the pirate ship docked in the harbor but he does not wish to press his luck with the boy. He awarded him the title "kinda cool" a week ago and Killian thinks this is quite the progress already.

"Great. I'll stop by after dinner?"

He blinks at her a few times. After dinner sounded late. So far they have restricted themselves to moonlit strolls at such hours of the night. He swallows at the thought of Emma boarding the Jolly at night.

"'Course, you know you're always welcome, love," he coughs and tries to regain his footing, voice dropping and eyebrows rising. "Should I _prepare _for your visit in any way?"

Predictably, Emma rolls her eyes and shoots him her best unimpressed look. There is something in it though—

"Just make sure you have your pants on, we'll be going somewhere else."

He doesn't sputter. He is Captain Hook, he doesn't loose control of his motor skills over a woman referring to his undergarments.

/

„Let's go."

"Don't you wish to have a drink first, Swan?"

She seems to contemplate the bottle in his hand with careful deliberation.

"We can take it with us. Come on."

He hasn't seen Emma so single-minded since they left Neverland. Of course, then her focus was razor sharp with a heavy undercurrent of desperation and rage. Now it's like energy incapable of being contained, a strong sense of eagerness and impatience and only the slightest nervousness to it.

He much prefers this.

"Are you kidnapping me, love?"

The lights are getting fewer and they are definitely on the edge of town now. He makes a confident move for her hand, one that he hasn't felt like making in the last few days. Her palm is surprisingly warm against his, if a little clammy. She spreads her fingers wide so he can fit his bigger ones in between them and Killian very purposefully lags half a step behind her, his shoulder nudging her shoulder blade, his body almost bumping into hers.

She laughs.

"Is this the pirate equivalent of "Are we there yet?""

"This is the equivalent of "Where even is _there_?""

She blatantly avoids his question.

"Hm, if I were to kidnap you – what then?"

"Why, I should hope that you will have your wicked way with me. And seeing as there won't be anyone to random me, I shall remain in your clutches for a long, _long_ time."

His last few words are little more than warm exhales against the little skin exposed by her scarf and somehow Emma manages to march on and squirm at the same time. He still doesn't miss the little hitch in her breathing or the way her hand tightens around his almost painfully.

"Here."

Killian looks up, jarred out of his thoughts and… well, if he has to be honest, disappointed by the sight before him. It is a completely ordinary building for this realm, a few stores smaller than the one she lives in. Honestly, he thinks they should've stayed on the Jolly.

"Come on."

Emma tugs him towards the entrance and then up the stairs with more of that impatience and single-mindedness. Then she comes to a very sudden halt on the third floor. He bumps into her shoulder – this time not on purpose – and almost topples back down the stairs.

"Swan?"

She whirls around and he moves a step away from the stairs to prevent any more losses of balance since Emma seems to be all about sudden movements tonight. Her cheeks and nose are pink from the cold air outside and her hair is a little wild under her beanie – she obviously curled it today but the wind has made sure that random strands and hairs are flying everywhere.

"So, umm… shit," she looks around as if she has forgotten what they came here for. "I thought it would be a good idea to combine the two but now I have to _explain_ and ugh."

The excitement is gradually mutating into frustration and he decides to take matters into his own hands.

"You don't have to explain, love, just do what you planned to."

"I was just going to let you in but—"

"So just let me in."

If there is a certain heaviness to his words, a promise and a _plea _tucked somewhere in those four words – well. Emma's eyes rove over his face and he hitches up one eyebrow and one corner of his mouth and tries to introduce some levity to it all. Her eyes sparkle in a way that he finds very hard to resist but before he can lean in, she nods to herself and turns around.

He doesn't really start analyzing the situation until he steps into the apartment Emma unlocks. He has been much too busy delighting in the closeness of tonight after days of doubt to think about what tonight might entail.

By the looks of it, some magical ritual.

"Swan… are you sure you shouldn't have Regina here instead?"

Her face does something that he has previously only seem on the faces of children when faced with the most slimy of sea creatures.

"What?"

Her tone suggests much the same disbelief and mild nausea at such an offering.

"For whatever spell this is?"

He frowns and looks around the room. It is mostly bare. There is a fireplace and some pillows and blankets before it but otherwise all the space seems to have been cleared out in preparation for some ritual. There are candles _everywhere_.

"Oh. See, I told you I should've explained first."

He shakes his head.

"If you need my help for a spell, Swan, I'd be willing to assist you of course, I just—"

"No, no. Shhh," Emma moves closer and suddenly her palm is obscuring his whole mouth – his mouth quirks up behind it and he can't resist the slight press of his lips against her flesh – her lips purse in something that is obviously not displeasure. "We're not doing any spells, pirate."

He is relieved he must say. He would've trusted and helped Emma with any magic but he can't deny that he was slightly vexed at the turn the evening had taken.

"Didn't you guys ever light a whole bunch of candles to set the mood in the Enchanted Forest?"

His eyebrow rises – part in surprise at the suggestion and part to indicate that he is still prohibited to speak. Emma removes her palm with slight reluctance and an expectant expression of her own.

"Darling, candles are rather expensive in quite a few places and when everything is made of wood – often enchanted wood at that – a blazing fire is not exactly the best way to– How did you put it? Set the mood."

"Oh."

"However, surely you know that whenever you are around my mood is always—"

"It's Valentine's Day."

The thought had drifted so far into the back of his mind that he almost jolts at her proclamation.

"And I've never— I mean I'm not much into the hearts and roses, it's… it's a bit much but I thought – candles. Candles are a nice touch. And wine. There is wine in the fridge. I have a fridge. Not much else in the way of furniture though and now I totally see why you thought I was gonna be sacrificing virgins in here or—"

His laughter is loud in the semi-empty, candle-lit room.

"Swan, I can assure you I will not be of any use to you for any _virgin sacrifices_, nor did the thought cross my mind."

"Whatever. You know what I mean."

"I think you mean to tell me that this place is yours?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I signed the lease the other day."

"And all this…"

"I… I don't know. I thought I'd combine the holiday and showing you the place and yeah."

"You mean this Valentine's holiday."

"Um, yeah."

"The one you didn't want me to know about?"

Emma's eyes widen a little.

"I may have… overhead."

"_That_'s why you weren't being all nosy about it!"

"_Nosy_? I—"

"Yeah, I didn't really want you knowing all about it before."

He gives her a brisk nod and looks down at his boots. They are standing very close and he can see the tips of hers as well.

"Swan, I want you to know that you are under no obligation to celebrate this with me just because we're…"

He looks up at her and waves his fingers between them. Courting seems to have gone out of fashion but he doesn't know how to work "make out sessions" in his sentence and Emma is frowning at him and—

"I mean, that's kinda the point? You celebrate it with the person you're dating."

_Dating_. He turns the word around in his mind a few times and then files it away. They are _dating_. And yet.

"But you did not wish me to know about it."

She frowns again. Then her face seems to clear and her mouth shapes into an almost perfect "o".

"Oh, no. Well, yes, but not— I didn't want you to know 'cause I knew you'd do a thing and I wanted to do a thing so…"

"This thing?"

He looks around yet again and finally let's himself see the setting for what it is – atmospheric, cozy, _romantic._

"I mean, I know it's not much of anything but—"

He cuts her off with a kiss.

/

It's much later, when they have finished the wine and moved on to the bottle of rum they brought and their "make out sessions" have apparently progressed to "third base" and Emma is being terribly amused by his questions about "fourth base", when Killian realizes something.

"Did you leave those candles burning while we were walking here?"

Her eyes widen a little and he is not sure if it's alarm at the realization or shock at his tone.

"Jeez, relax. No, I lit them when we got to the building."

"With magic?"

She nods hesitantly but he doesn't restrain his grin.

"You're getting really good at that, Swan."

"What? Lighting candles? That's like Magic 101."

"Still."

He lifts her hand up with his hook and kisses her fingertips and he swears he can almost feel the hum and warmth of her magic under the skin. She looks like she is about to protest but then sighs and relaxes further into him.

"So, this Valentine's Day. Now that I know all about it, am I allowed to do "a thing" next year?"

He keeps his voice deliberately casual but the implication is loud and illuminated by the calmly crackling fire. Her eyes are very green under this light as well. They narrow in a way that tells him she knows exactly what he is pulling but her words are more reassurance than reprimand.

"Sure, you can do a thing next year."

Contrary to popular belief, it seems Emma Swan is a romantic. Contrary to popular belief, she apparently wants to be romantic with him.


End file.
